An American Knitter in Europe

When traveling in Europe, one of my favorite excursions is to find a yarn shop and buy a few skeins to make a shawl or scarf while traveling. I always find luscious yarns (and all wool!!!), meet interesting people, and have an experience I’ll remember as one of the highlights of my trip.

I follow the map on my phone down a quiet street in the South of France. I’ve already bought lots of yarn in Paris, but I’ve managed to break a set of circular knitting needles during my travels. Darn, I’ll have to find another knitting shop in Nice!

The quiet street is located just a few blocks from the Mediterranean, and there are only a few local people around, running errands on foot or otherwise going about their business. I find the tiny knitting store, but it’s closed. Peering in at the brightly colored yarns inside, I know it’s the place for me. I make a pharmacie run for wonderful French cosmetics and wait for the owner to return.

A French Knitting Shop

Bonjour, Madame!

The knit shop is open, and a handsome Frenchman of a certain age is seated behind a small wooden counter. Several other customers have squeezed inside the shop as well. I get in line and eye some skeins as blue as the Mediterranean, and all wool as well.

Bonjour, Monsieur,” I reply in greeting, as I’ve been taught to do upon entering any place of business in France.

When the customers in front of me have finished purchasing their yarn and needles, I repeat my greeting and explain in my bad French that I need 3.5 mm needles, circular if he has them.

This is NOT the big box store experience we have in the United States! There are no racks of needles and knitting supplies lining the walls, available in large quantities to pluck off and head to the self-checkout.

Instead, the handsome Frenchman pulls out a drawer underneath his counter, frowns, rummages around a bit, and finally comes up with two sets of circular needles in the size I need. I select the bamboo ones…and point to the skeins of Mediterranean blue yarn as well.

After profuse “mercis” for bailing me out of a knitting emergency, I pay, tuck the needles and yarn in my tote bag, bid the handsome shopkeeper “au revoir,” and I’m on my way.

Shopping the Old-Fashioned Way

Walking back to my hotel, I realize that this was how all shopping used to be, long ago. You didn’t “browse” or do “retail therapy” – shopping as recreation. If you needed something, you went to a specific shop and told the proprietor exactly what you needed to buy. You would have formally greeted the shopkeeper, and he (probably not a she) would greet you formally in return. You would buy something made of natural materials, and you would certainly not stuff your purchases in a plastic bag.

Knitting Memories from Europe

I’ve truly enjoyed all my excursions to buy yarn and knitting supplies in Europe. The yarns are always much higher quality than those on offer in big box craft stores in the U.S., and there’s always that personal interaction you rarely get in the big box stores.

In Montreal, I got to buy small-batch wool from local sheep – and with the name of the sheep attached to the label! In Spain, I got to buy the famous Merino yarns, actually made in the Merino region of Spain and at much more affordable prices than what we pay in America. In Portugal, I got to buy local Portuguese yarn as well, and the shawl I made while touring the country has become one of my favorite souvenirs ever.

The next time you travel, check out a local yarn shop! Even if you don’t speak the language, you’ll meet a local shopkeeper who truly knows their products. You’ll get high-quality yarn, and maybe you’ll make your own precious souvenir to help you remember a wonderful little excursion.

Bon Voyage and Happy Knitting,
Cindy

I’ve started a new travel blog, aimed at women in their “next chapter” after retirement, child-rearing, or other big life changes we all eventually face. Please check it out at www.travels-with-cindy.com.

Do you love knitting and travel? Travel through time through my fictional histories of how Knitting got to Europe and the Americas by reading my books, Knitting Through Time and Knitting Under the Orange Trees, both available in paperback and on Kindle, included in Kindle Unlimited.

Cynthia Coe is the author of The Prayer Shawl Chronicles and its sequel, The Knitting Guild of All Saints. Her newest novels, Knitting Through Time and Knitting Under the Orange Trees, explore how knitting spread through Europe and on to the Americas. Follow her here on the blog, at http://www.cynthiacoe.com, or on her Amazon Author Page.

Knitting with Love: The Quiet Power of Prayer Shawls

There’s something deeply comforting about a handmade shawl. The weight of it. The warmth. The sense that someone, somewhere, took the time to create something just for you.

For many knitters, that feeling is exactly why we pick up our needles in the first place—not just to make something beautiful, but to make something meaningful.

Rooted in Tradition, Alive Today

The idea of special, meaningful cloths goes back centuries.

In Jewish tradition, the tallit is a prayer shawl used in worship. In Christian communities, fabric has long been used in healing rituals, blessings, and acts of care. Across cultures, textiles have carried meaning far beyond their practical use.

Today’s prayer shawls continue that tradition in a very accessible way. They show up in hospitals, at baptisms, during grief, in times of celebration, and in quiet moments of personal reflection.

They are simple—and yet deeply powerful.

Knitting as a Spiritual Practice

There’s a reason so many people find peace in knitting. It gives your hands something to do while your mind settles. It creates space to think, to process, or simply to be still.

When you knit a shawl with intention, that experience deepens.

You might:

  • Hold someone in your thoughts as you knit
  • Say a quiet prayer at the beginning or end of a session
  • Choose colors that reflect hope, healing, or love
  • Simply focus on creating something good in the world

There’s no “right way” to do it.

That’s part of the beauty.

Designing Something Personal

One of the most meaningful aspects of prayer shawls is how personal they can be. From simple beginner patterns to more detailed designs, each shawl can reflect the person making it—and the person receiving it.

Color, texture, size, and pattern all become part of the story. Even the simplest garter stitch shawl can carry deep meaning when it’s made with care.

A Gift That Matters

In a world full of quick texts and overnight shipping, a handmade shawl stands apart.

It says:

  • I thought of you
  • I spent time on this
  • You matter

For someone going through illness, loss, or uncertainty, that kind of gift can mean more than we often realize. And for the knitter, it offers something just as valuable—a sense of purpose, a symbol of love and of care. 

A Gentle Resource for Your Journey

For those who feel drawn to this work, A Prayer Shawl Handbook offers a thoughtful and practical guide to getting started. It explores the history and meaning of prayer shawls, provides simple patterns for knitters and crocheters, and offers ideas for creating shawls with intention—whether for personal use, gifts, or church ministries. It’s a quiet companion for anyone who wants to knit not just with skill, but with love.

Cynthia Coe is the author of The Prayer Shawl Chronicles and its sequel, The Knitting Guild of All Saints. Her newest novels, Knitting Through Time and Knitting Under the Orange Trees, explore how knitting spread through Europe and on to the Americas. Follow her here on the blog, at http://www.cynthiacoe.com, or on her Amazon Author Page.

Waiting for Warmth

This winter has felt especially cold.

By late February, I always find myself restless. It’s too late to cast on a heavy wool sweater — we know this hard winter won’t last forever. And yet it’s hard to feel inspired to knit airy spring tops when frost still rims the mornings.

It’s an in-between season.

The sparkle of Christmas is long gone. But we aren’t yet in the soft greens and open windows of spring. Lent quietly stretches across these weeks — reflective, slightly uncomfortable, asking us to sit still when we’d rather rush ahead.

Even our knitting reflects it.

We hesitate. Do we commit to something warm and weighty, knowing we may not need it for long? Or do we begin something light and hopeful, even while the wind still bites?

This middle space can feel awkward. Unsettled. A little gray around the edges.

And yet, there’s something honest about it.

Not every season is meant for grand beginnings or festive celebration. Some seasons are meant for waiting. For smaller stitches. For patience. For trusting that warmth will come again — slowly, quietly, right on time.

Perhaps that’s why I find myself drawn to warmer landscapes in my imagination this time of year. Places where sunlight lingers a little longer. Where blossoms promise what’s ahead.

In the meantime, we use our imaginations and our creativity to look towards a time and place where the sun will shine and warmth will envelope us. 

Blessings, Cindy

To transport yourself instantly to someplace warmer, read my new novel, “Knitting Under the Orange Trees,” now available in both paperback and e-reader editions on Amazon